Come To Me (Amelia and Patrick)
Chapter 545

Milton pulled his lips into a smile. He seemed to have changed into a different persona, and all his violent tendencies quieted down. He said, "So, can I take her away now?" Patrick nodded. "Sure. The hero rescuing a damsel in distress wins her heart."

With that, he glanced at Huxton. Huxton immediately gestured to Milton, "Mr. Cook, please come with me."

Just as Milton was about to follow him, Patrick, who was standing behind, asked with a smile, "By the way, Mr. Cook, you don't actually care about Maryanne, do you?"

Milton stopped in his tracks and said even without turning his head, "I don't! Not in the past, not even now, and not in the future!"

Patrick's smile deepened. "Very well. Take her with you as you like."

After Milton left with Huxton, Patrick picked up the remote control and turned the screen on again.

In the display, two patches of blood pooled around the legs of the only chair in the room. Looking at the source of the blood, Maryanne's hands could be seen being nailed to the handles. Her hands, which used to be fair and slender, had now turned into a bloody, grotesque mess, and now she could not even lift a finger...

Further up, Maryanne's lips were parted and her head was lopsided, the black cloth covering her eyes stained wet with tears. Patrick suddenly wanted to know why Maryanne was crying. So, he asked...

"Maryanne, what are you crying for?"

In the other room, Maryanne recognized Patrick's voice. She tried her best to move her purple lips, but her throat felt like it was blocked, and she could not force a word out.

Patrick adjusted into a more comfortable sitting posture and asked calmly, "Well, let me guess. Are you regretting what you did?"

Maryanne's mouth gaped open even wider as if she was howling in despair.

Patrick asked with interest, "Or are you crying because it hurts?"

Maryanne, who was in so much pain that she was at loss for words, lowered her head dejectedly.

Seeing that he had asked the wrong question, Patrick pretended to ponder for a minute. Then he understood and said, "Oh, I see. You cried because you heard the latter half of the conversation between me and Milton, right?"

Hearing this, Maryanne's entire body shook, and tears began to seep out from the bottom of the black cloth strip...

Patrick knew he had hit home.

At the same time, Huxton had brought Milton to the door of the first room.

After standing still at the door, Huxton said to Milton, "Miss Maryanne is inside. Do you want to go in by yourself, or should I bring you in?"

Milton said with a deadpan expression, "I can go by myself."

"Okay." Huxton nodded slightly and politely opened the door for Milton.

As soon as he looked up, Milton saw the miserable condition that Maryanne was in. Although he was mentally prepared, he still felt uneasy at the sight of her.

On second thought, why had Maryanne committed this unforgivable mistake? She was not worthy of any sympathy!

Milton collected himself. When he walked in, he put on a concerned look and exclaimed urgently, "Maryanne, don't be scared. I'm here to save you!" "Milton." Maryanne's voice sounded dry and coarse. Milton squatted in front of her. For a moment, he did not know whether to pull out the military blades from the handles of the chair or to help buckle the buttons of her shirt first.

In the end, he removed the black cloth strip from her eyes.

As the piece of cloth drifted down, he met with Maryanne's fluttering and vibrating eyelashes.

Her appearance reminded Milton of a fragile butterfly. And this time, Maryanne was a specimen sent into the lab, getting her wings nailed to the wall.

"Milton..." Maryanne opened her eyes and looked at him with tears after a long time, crying out his name weakly in despair.

"It may hurt a little. Please bear with it." Milton avoided looking into her eyes and yanked out the two military knives in a swift motion.

Without any obstruction, the blood flowed out faster. Maryanne was in such excruciating pain that her voice began to wobble. "Milton, I... I'm in so much pain... Just kill me!"

"Nonsense! I'll take you to the hospital immediately!"

Milton gave the two men in black at the door a sidelong glance, and the two of them walked over robotically. One helped to untie the rope while the other undid the chain. After a short while, Maryanne was free from the binding.

On the other hand, Milton helped her buttoned up to her collar, turned his back to her and said, "Hop on, I'll carry you."

A few seconds had passed, but Maryanne did not react at all.

Milton looked back in confusion, only to find Maryanne sprawled unconscious onto the back of the chair...

Ten minutes later...

Huxton returned to the second room, bowed his head and reported to Patrick, "Mr. Hopper, he's gone."

"Okay." Patrick got up from his seat and smoothed out the hem of his clothes. He replied lightly, "Let's go back too." At Land of Fragrance.

When Patrick returned to the master bedroom, Amelia was already asleep.

She looked lovely when she slept, he could not resist but lean over and plant a kiss on her lips.

"Hmm..." Amelia was not deeply asleep yet. In other words, she was subconsciously waiting for Patrick to come home.

Her watery eyes blinked delicately as she gazed at the handsome face that was right in front of her. Amelia was a blur and cute as she muttered, "Darling, you're back!"

Darling?

The adrenaline in his body increased two-fold and coursed through his veins. He had never heard Amelia call him that. He used to listen to Charles and his female companions saying lovey-dovey words to each other, which only bored him to death. But now that this was addressed to him, he felt that it was totally acceptable.

After making sure that Patrick had come home, all the drowsiness in Amelia's body overcame her at once. She no longer cared about missing him, rubbed the soft pillow, and headed straight back to sleep. Patrick only let out a sigh and said awkwardly but expectantly, "What did you just call me? Call me that again."

But the only response he got was a series of sleepy snorting sound...

A vein pulsated on Patrick's forehead. To hear what he wanted to hear, he did not hesitate to flick his finger at Amelia's forehead.

"Ah! Who hit me!" The next second, Amelia covered her forehead with her hand and jumped up from the bed like a spring.

"Who?" Patrick was furtively laying a trap and waited for Amelia to use that sweet voice of hers to call him 'darling' again.

Unfortunately, Amelia was full of anger. It was good enough that she did not beat him. She put down the hand covering her forehead and waved her fist grumpily, "Patrick! Why don't you go to sleep if you have nothing to do? Why did you flick my head?"

Failing to hear the word he wanted to hear, Patrick's face frosted. With lightning speed, he flicked her forehead again, and a small patch of her skin reddened at the impact.

With tears in the corner of her eyes, Amelia glared at Patrick with her hands crossed on her forehead. "What's wrong with you?"

Patrick pulled a long face and grunted unhappily, "Not that."